


a love to last eternities

by galpalaven



Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: :3c, Anxiety Attacks, Asexual Character, F/M, First Date, First Kiss, Flashbacks, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Making Out, Mutual Pining, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Relationship, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 16:02:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29456433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galpalaven/pseuds/galpalaven
Summary: "I can tell you of the love you will share. Of a love so strong it may survive eternities. Of comfort. Of passion. Of truth."Kira's past comes back to haunt her in more ways than one, but at least - in the wake of lost dreams and shattered realities - at leastsomethinggood will come of all this.
Relationships: Detective/Nathaniel "Nate" Sewell, Female Detective/Nathaniel "Nate" Sewell, Kira Yi/Nathaniel "Nate" Sewell
Comments: 17
Kudos: 36





	1. liberosis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **liberosis** \- _the desire to care less about things_
> 
> Kira can face anything the supernatural world throws her way - vampires, werewolves, crazy carnies - but one too-insistent human man at her door who can't take no for an answer and she crumples like a wilted flower.
> 
> It's pathetic. It's embarrassing. It's - more than Nate deserves to deal with.

Kira’s had about enough of tonight, and that’s before Bobby shows his stupid face outside of her apartment in the middle of the fucking night.

It takes everything in her to keep her voice low as she sighs roughly, groaning, as she says, “I’m _really_ not in the mood for this right now.”

“I don’t think that’s true, Kira,” he says, smiling that same sickly-sweet smile he’d had since she met him at freshman orientation 10 years ago. “You don’t even know why I’m here. It might just put you in the _right_ mood.”

Her mind flashes back to finals week, junior year, right before he was supposed to be leaving for study abroad. The smell of cheap beer and cologne drifts through the hallway, conjured by the memory. Her stomach turns, and she just shakes her head, rubbing roughly at her face in response. 

Holds her hands there. Counts backwards from five. Drops her hands back to her sides with a _slap_ as they fall heavily against her thighs. 

“Is this urgent? Or can it wait until I’m back at work and we can have a professional conversation about it?”

“ _Oh,_ it’s urgent.” He runs his gaze up and down the length of her, and she can feel it like a spark of uncomfortable static even in the dark hallway. “At least by Wayhaven standards.”

There are many things she wants to say, but she settles on a flat, “Really.”

His gaze finally snaps back to her eyes. “Oh, yeah. It’s been all over town already.”

That sparks her interest enough that she relaxes a little—does he know something more about the outbreak?

“Everyone has heard about your little _foray_ into the carnival with… one of those agents.” His mood shifts, and the first spark of fear crackles to life in her chest. He grapples with his facade for a moment before he settles back into his casual slump, though he still looks sour. “The grapevine is rife with it.”

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Kira hisses, jamming her key into the lock, yanking the door open and stepping instead.

Bobby’s foot jams into the gap before she can close it behind her.

She glares, yanking the door back open a little in annoyance. “What is it that you want me to say, Marks?”

He laughs, reaching out to catch the door and push it open a little more, slipping a little further into her apartment. “Ohh, I’m _Marks_ now, am I? Have I struck a nerve?”

Kira sets her jaw as she fixes her gaze steadfastly on his eyes. She will not let him see her crack—not after everything else going on right now.

“What. Do. You. _Want_.”

“I just want to talk, Kira,” he says pleadingly. “Come _on_. We used to be friends. Good friends. Let’s talk—let’s hang out. Off the record. Just you and me.”

Kira blinks.

“What on Earth makes you think I would want to hang out with you right now?”

He shrugs, leaning back against the door frame like they’re not currently grappling over control of the door. His smile is easy, meant to be charming, but all it does is make her head hurt.

“I think you remember how much fun we had together—and I think you’re in desperate need of a little relaxation in good company.”

She squints at him, opening the door fully just to have it out of his hands. She leans on it as she asks, “As if my _date_ tonight was not enough relaxation in good company?”

Bobby shrugs, taking her opening of the door as an invitation as he breezes into her apartment like he owns the place. He shoves his hands into his pockets, taking in the living room and all its cozy, secondhand decor. 

“Well, he’s not _here_ , so it couldn’t have been _that_ good, right?” He turns to smirk at her over his shoulder. “Whenever we hung out, we used to hang out even _after_ the day’s activities ended.”

Kira rolls her eyes, shutting the door behind them both and trying not to think of how ominous the _clunk_ of the door sounds right now. She goes to flick on a few lights, not bothering with the overhead because it gives her a headache even on her best days, and right now she’s exhausted. 

Still, she doesn’t move away from the entranceway, anxious to get whatever is about to happen over with. She watches Bobby inspect her apartment for another moment, crossing her arms and trying not to kick herself for still being a pushover after all these years.

“How… quaint,” he says at last.

She leans against the wall by the door, unimpressed. “Thanks.”

“You misunderstand,” he coos, and alarm bells immediately start going off in her head as he saunters closer. “You always misunderstand me. I think it’s nice that you’re home enough to focus on comfort here.”

He stops just a breadth away, their chests nearly touching, and Kira visibly shrinks backwards as she mumbles, “Thanks.”

She knows he can see her cheeks going red with—what is this feeling? Humiliation?—because he smiles in a way that she knows all too well, looking almost like he’s about to reach for her.

Kira takes a full step back—straight into another wall.

Bobby stalks forward, looming over her now with her back against the wall. He props one arm up beside her head, grinning down at her, and all Kira can think about besides the familiar, nauseating, _overwhelming_ stench of cologne is how very small she actually is compared to most men.

And then he does exactly what she’d feared he was going to do.

He grabs her by the coat collar and yanks her forward into a kiss.

Anxiety spikes so sharply within her that she feels it as a physical pain in her head, and it takes all of her strength to fight back against the natural response her body seems to have in these situations— _freeze, don’t make it worse, if we just lie still it won’t be so bad—_ and braces her hands against his chest, shoving as hard as she can.

“Get _off—_ what the _fuck—_ ”

“Still playing hard to get, Li?” Bobby laughs, still using her Americanized last name all these years later, and her face is so hot now she’s dizzy with it. He doesn’t even move to give her space to breathe. “Come on. Relax. Let’s have a little fun like we used to.”

Kira makes a show of wiping her mouth, moving away from the wall so that he doesn’t have her cornered anymore. She doesn’t want him to see the tears burning at her eyes now, even as her vision blurs, so she stays facing away from him, scrubbing at her face with the sleeves of her cheeks. She feels so utterly helpless, and she doesn’t understand _why—_ she’s a _cop_ , for God's sake, she’s _trained for this_. 

There’s just something about this—about _him—_

“ _Kira—”_

He’s still _laughing_.

“Get out.”

Bobby chuckles, reaching for her shoulder. “What?”

“I said, _get out!_ ” she snaps, shoving him away and making for the door. When she reaches it, she swings it open with a _bang_ , glaring at him as she holds it open. “Get. _Out_.”

He snorts, rolling his eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re still afraid of a little intimacy.”

“Bobby, I swear to _fuck_ , I will call the cops. Get out of my fucking house.”

“Kira—”

“OUT!”

He rolls his eyes but, before she can start losing her shit for real, he throws his hands up in surrender and sees himself out. He starts to say something once he’s on the other side of the threshold, but she doesn’t care to listen, slamming the door as hard as she can in his face. 

The pictures she has hung on the wall beside the door rattle with the force of it.

“Real mature,” she hears him grumble on the other side of the door. She waits, listening, until he sighs and she hears his footsteps disappear down the hall.

And then she collapses.

Kira’s back hits the door a little harder than she would have liked as she sucks in a ragged breath, squeezing her eyes shut and feeling the first tears fall, rolling in fat clumps down her cheeks and dropping heavily to the rug below.

“... _shit_.”

The curse leaves her lips in a hissing rush of air as she brings one hand up to cover her eyes. Her hands tremble as she struggles to lock the deadbolt before she slides down the door, slipping to the floor where she stays, bracing her elbows on bent knees as she buries her face in her hands. Shivers wash over her in waves, from the top of her scalp all the way down to her toes where they’re curled in her boots. Memories flash through her mind, unbidden— _the smell of cigarette smoke and cologne, too hot hands under her blouse, humid breath on her neck, the crash of the lamp she’d knocked over in her haste to get away—_

“ _Fuck_ ,” she hisses, pulling at her hair, trying to force the memory away. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Her hands move before she realizes what she’s doing, pulling her phone from her coat pocket and scrolling, looking for someone specific…

The phone starts to ring, and she presses the top of it to her forehead, breath already building up to hyperventilation. It rings several times, and with each ring she comes a little closer to regaining her senses. What is she doing? They’re just going to—

The voicemail picks up, and she panics, stammering as she struggles to see well enough to end the call. She coughs on a sob as she hits the end button, and she curses again at the knowledge that _that_ is going to be what Nate hears if he ever gets to his voicemail. 

“Hey, what the fuck—who are you? How did you— _AGH!_ ”

There’s a loud _thump_ in the hallway that makes Kira’s stomach drop. She scrubs anxiously at the tears still flowing freely down her cheeks as she pushes herself back to her feet, fumbling with the deadbolt for a moment before she manages to open the door and peer out into the darkened hallway.

For a moment, all she can see is the shape of someone standing in the hallway. There’s a second where she thinks she’s looking at Bobby, and she almost calls out to him to ask him what the hell he thinks he’s doing—when she hears a groan coming from the floor of the hallway.

Through the little bit of light flooding out of her apartment door, she realizes that she can see the prone figure of Bobby lying on the ground. What little she can see of his skin is covered in that same blistering smear of blue and white, the figure who’d attacked him standing over him menacingly. They meet her eyes and neither of them move.

Shit _._

The anxiety already pumping through her blood like white hot iron does nothing to make her escape smooth or quick, as she hurries drag Bobby bodily out of the middle of the hallway and into the safety of her apartment. Her mind screams at her to just leave him, especially as the stranger advances, but the detective part of her mind (quiet as she is right now) won’t let her just leave him.

Kira half kicks him the rest of the way into her apartment, hurrying to close the door behind her—but she’s too late.

The stranger catches the door before she can close it, and she stumbles backwards into the long table by the entryway, knocking the plant that usually sits on it off of the table and onto the floor. She continues to retreat as the glass of the big living room window begins to ripple like water, and more figures step through the glass, stepping onto the window seat as they enter.

 _Shit_.

There’s a brief moment where she gets the chance to look a little more closely, and she realizes that they look exactly like the man in the mirror—paper white skin, dark eyes with a single circle of gold set on a black sclera. Unable to do anything else, she backs towards the kitchen, raising her hands in surrender and hating herself for how much she’s shaking.

“Please,” she rasps, and another tear slips down her cheeks. “I don’t know why you’re here, but I don’t want to fight you.”

The woman who had attacked Bobby eyes her companions, and then tilts her head thoughtfully. “You are… reasonable.”

Kira smiles hopefully, though she can feel how weak it is. “We don’t have to hurt each other. I’ll give you whatever you want.”

The woman sneers, and Kira’s stomach drops. “We do not _want_ ,” she growls. “We do as told.”

Her stance tenses and Kira chokes on the urge to sob. Can she not catch a break? Just this once? What did she do to deserve this?

“Please, _please_ ,” she gasps, stumbling backward more. “I am not a threat to you. We don’t have to do this.”

Kira’s just darted behind her kitchen counter when a loud _thud_ from the windows distracts her—a new figure has arrived. This one isn’t a stranger like the others. She recognizes him immediately.

The supernatural from the House of Mirrors.

Great.

She watches his hawk-like eyes take in her apartment, a strange sort of curiosity gleaming there, before his gaze finally lands on her where she is cowering behind her kitchen counter. He smirks as she grips onto the end of the countertop a little harder, until her knuckles start to turn white.

“ _You_ ,” she sighs, wishing she could just lie down right here on the counter. “Why am I not surprised?”

He makes a noise that might have been the beginning of a laugh. “I see my messengers have done their job well.”

Kira laughs humorlessly, groaning as she rubs a hand over her face. “If you wanted to threaten me, you picked a great time to do it.”

When she looks back up at him, he looks confused, and a little bit curious as to what she means by that. She’s not about to explain, lest they decide to finish Bobby off before they go—as much as she dislikes him, she doesn’t want him dead, and with the whole _Judgment_ thing that went on in the House of Mirrors…

Bobby stands even less of a chance if they really knew what he’d just done—or what he’d done to her before. 

He’s just collateral right now, and he probably has a better chance at living through this if he stays that way.

In the middle of whatever this standoff is, Kira’s phone flares to life in her pocket, and she can _feel_ her blood draining from her face as she meets the strange man’s eyes, horror sinking deep into her belly. His nostrils flare, and he turns back to his followers, mumbling something in a language that she can’t quite pick out but almost recognizes that sends them all heading back to the window.

She lets them go, watching them recede into the glass as her phone rings shrilly in her pocket. Before he can leave, the man in the mirror turns to look back at her, formal as ever. 

“Accept the courtesy of our warning. We will not interfere in your affairs. Do not interfere in ours.”

And then he’s gone, and she’s left staring at the pathetic image of herself half hiding behind her kitchen counter in the window.

She almost wants to laugh, once it sinks in that she’s alone once again. Is that what they call _not interfering_? For all they knew, Bobby was her boyfriend or something. How is this not interfering in her affairs? 

It makes her head throb as her eyes drift back over to Bobby where he’s laying halfway over the threshold of her apartment. With a quiet sigh, she wanders over to Bobby and finishes dragging him into the apartment, glancing up and down the hallway just to make sure no one else is out there before she shuts the door behind her. 

Bobby’s breath is coming fast and hard, his eyes squeezed shut against the pain of his new skin condition. Some sick, twisted part of her doesn’t even want to call anyone just yet—he deserves this, at least a little—but she knows she can’t just leave him here. The hospital isn’t equipped for it, and having Bobby _expire_ on her apartment floor surely won’t be good for… _anything_ really.

Her phone rings again, more insistent this time somehow, and she raises it to her ear numbly. As she moves, all she can think is that her hands are still shaking.

“...Hello?”

“Kira!” Nate sounds like he’s out of breath. She can hear something rustling in the background. “ _Finally_. Kira, are you alright? What’s wrong? You sounded...”

She doesn’t know what to say to that. Her eyes are stuck on Bobby, still lying on the floor. Another few tears drip down her cheeks. 

“ _Nate—_ ” her voice cracks, “—I need help.”

“Anything.” There’s no hesitation at all—none.

“Can you come over?” Her lip wobbles, threatening her composure. “Please?”

“Absolutely. Are you safe until I get there?”

Her eyes sting. She sniffles, leaning back against the wall. “Y-Yeah.”

“I will be but moments. Don’t move.”

_Click._

The line goes dead. 

Kira sits in one of her barstools by the kitchen counter and tries to calm her nerves before everyone else shows up.

She’s successfully managed, at least, to stop crying by the time her apartment door opens again and a familiar figure bursts through the door. His eyes land on the body on the ground first, and she watches Nate’s face pale before he realizes that it’s not her—and then he looks up, and his eyes find hers. She hasn’t moved from her spot on the barstool, and offers him half of a weak wave. She’s gone from being overly anxious to being downright numb now, though there’s still the dull ache in her bones that promises an even worse anxiety attack later tonight.

He crosses to her in two strides, closing the door behind him as he moves to cup her cheeks in his hands, thumbs stroking against the soft skin there. Warmth floods through her at the touch, putting a crack in the wall she’d put up in the few minutes it took him to race across town. She closes her eyes, unable to bear the concern in those lovely brown eyes of his as she clutches at his wrists, bowing her head until she bumps her forehead against his sternum.

“...what happened?”

She shrugs, inhaling the scent of him. The tension in her muscles ease with the smell of his cologne. 

_Safe..._

“Supernatural from the carnival showed up,” is all she mumbles after a minute.

Nate tenses against her. His arms move from her hands to her back, wrapping his arms around her. “What did he want?”

“Told me to leave them alone.”

“And… what happened with…?” She can feel him turn to look back at Bobby on the floor.

Kira shrugs again, eyes burning. “Collateral, I guess?”

Nate doesn’t say anything to that, arms tightening around her when a few tears slip out and soak into his t-shirt. She wishes they could stay like this forever, but unfortunately there is a situation afoot, and Bobby is still withering away on her rug. When he groans again, she sighs and pulls away—though, only _just—_ to look at him.

“We should get him to the facility,” she says flatly. 

“Right…” Nate clears his throat. “I’ll carry him out.”

Kira can’t really remember what happened throughout the meeting they had about this whole thing. She is present enough to answer questions and pretend to be okay, but the second her mother tries to comfort her, something inside her snaps. Part of her is glad that her mother is finally— _finally—_ here for her, but where was she the first time this happened? Where was she when she was 19 years old, sobbing in the bathroom of a stranger’s house, trying desperately to get a hold of her mother because she just wanted to _go home_ and _no one answered her_?

Where _was she_ and why wasn’t Kira ever good enough to keep her attention?

The only twinge of… _something_ Kira feels is when her mother sneers at the sight of Bobby, as if she does have some recollection of who he was and what he did, asking what he was doing there. 

There’s some more chatter about the ambush, but no one seems to notice how off Kira is—or maybe they write it off as her being tired—but by the time Bobby has been dealt with and her mother disappears again, the sky is already pale with the grey light of dawn, and Kira sighs heavily. 

She’s so fucking tired.

She’s just standing there, staring out the window at the morning light, when she feels Nate come up behind her—and she knows it’s him because he slides his hand up her back, lightly rubbing circles in between her shoulder blades. It nearly makes her moan, leaning back into him and closing her eyes.

“Shall I take you home?” he asks. She can feel the rumble of his words in his chest.

“ _Please_ ,” comes out as a sigh. “I’m so tired. I just want to go home.”

Kira can feel him laugh and, for the first time all night, she smiles, opening her eyes to look up at him. 

“Let’s go, then.”

* * *

Kira is not surprised that Nate doesn’t drive, she realizes as they ride back to her place in the back of an unmarked Agency vehicle. Of all the things he cannot, for some reason, grasp about technology, it’s not surprising that cars would be on that list. Hell, she doesn’t even really like driving either, so even beyond that she can’t blame him for not learning.

Plus, as she buries her face in his leather jacket, sliding her hand into his with a sigh, she can’t help but be glad that they can have this moment to be together. The smell of whatever gentle cologne he wears and the worn leather of his jacket mingles into a heady aroma that has the deep-seated tension in her body melting away. It’s a short ride from the facility to her apartment—from anywhere in Wayhaven to her apartment, actually—but she’s pretty sure she actually falls asleep for part of it, because it seems like she blinks and suddenly Nate is thanking the driver and climbing out of the car.

Walking up the stairs to her apartment is a challenge that she hadn’t expected, though Nate keeps one gentle, steadying hand on her back as he walks her to her door. 

When they reach her door, she goes to unlock it, exhaustion a heavy ache under her skin. All she can think about right now is changing into pajamas and collapsing into bed for the next 12 hours.

And then Nate speaks up again.

“Are you all right?” he asks, watching her unlock the door. “You’re incredibly quiet.”

“Hmm?” Kira can only find the coherence to hum for a moment, before she processes his question. “Oh. I’m fine. Just tired, I think. Very tired.”

He doesn’t seem to believe her, and though she feels like she’s about to start going cross-eyed, she can see his gaze darting around her face in concern. “Are you worried about your reporter friend?”

 _Who_?

...oh.

Right. Bobby.

The memory of the _incident_ comes rushing back at the mention of Bobby, and Kira can’t quite hold back the shuddering breath she takes, reaching up to rub at her jaw. Part of her wants to tell him everything—to cry in his arms until the stabbing pain in her chest has finally subsided back to a dull ache. The rest of her realizes that it’s not his problem and, after what he said to Adam, it will probably never be his problem.

“...Kira?”

She blinks, glancing up at him and silently cursing herself when a tear drips down her cheek. Realization seems to wash over his face, but she shakes her head, rubbing at her tired eyes with a hiss as she says, “No. It’s not—no. I couldn’t care less about _Bobby_.”

Nate brushes a piece of her hair behind her ear. “Things didn’t end well with you two?”

Kira laughs—a short, hysterical burst of sound as she presses her hand to her eyes. “Ah, _god—_ no. No, they fucking didn’t. He’s—he’s not my friend. He’s—” her voice cracks, something squeezes in her chest, her lip starts to tremble. 

“Friends don’t do what he did,” she says after a moment. “Friends don’t _do_ _that_.”

Half of a sob escapes her mouth before she slaps the hand that she’d had over her eyes over her lips. She looks up at Nate, horrified, to find him looking… angry.

Angry and concerned.

His hand drops from where he’d been touching her hair and returns to his side, though he doesn’t move away. She hates herself for even saying that—hates herself even more as the floodgates seem to open, and she fumbles with the door rather than look at him anymore, stumbling into her apartment with a shuddering gasp.

“Kira, do you want me to leave?”

That stops her in her tracks, though she’s sure whatever look on her face is borderline terrified as she turns to look at him, raking both of her hands through her hair.

It strikes her how he’s still standing in the hallway, rather than having followed her in. She knows that vampires don’t _need_ permission to enter anyone’s house, but it’s such a stark difference compared to the others she’s dealt with tonight. Nate’s frame nearly fills her doorway, but everything about him radiates warmth, and she wants nothing more than for him to come in and never leave.

She shakes her head, and what breath she can catch through the hyperventilation she can feel building she uses to gasp, “ _Stay_. Please. I don’t—I can’t—”

Kira breaks off in a sob, bending in two with the force of it, and Nate apparently needs no more permission than that. She barely hears the sound of the door closing behind him before his arms are around her—strong and warm and _familiar—_ and they’re stumbling to the floor in her entryway as her legs give out entirely. Her fingers clutch desperately at the back of his shirt under his jacket, muffling her aching cries in his chest as 10 years of repressed trauma and all 28 years of loneliness all come pouring out of her. There are a few tense minutes where all she can feel is the pain in her chest and her head, all she can hear is her own voice and the rushing of her own pulse in her ears—but Nate doesn’t let go. 

He doesn’t let go.

All he does is position himself more comfortably against the wall after a minute, so that he’s supported as he almost cradles her in his arms, holding her tight like he’s trying to hold all the pieces of her together. She’s gross and his shirt is getting damp with tears and snot, but when her panic attack starts to taper off into more hyperventilation than sobbing, she can hear him speaking to her, soft and warm.

_You’re okay. It’s alright. You’re safe. I’m here. I’ve got you._

_I’ve got you._

It makes her already quick breaths start to come even faster, making her head spin and black bursts pop across her vision. He starts to speak a little louder, then, though his voice is still level and calm.

“Kira. You’re hyperventilating, love, please—slow down. It’s okay. Breathe with me, come on. In and out. Nice and slow, just like this. Everything is alright. _Breathe_.”

It takes her a few minutes to manage it, forehead pressed to his sternum as she struggles to turn her breathing back into something close to normal. She can feel his heart beating, steady and true, beneath is ribcage. Every swell of his chest as he takes a full, deep breath she does her best to match, until she can _finally_ take a slow, shaky breath that doesn’t immediately dissolve into more hysterics.

As her breathing evens out and the exhaustion takes the place of the hysteria, she becomes aware of how they’re sitting. He’s propped up against the wall and she’s curled up against him, knees tucked up against his side as she has her head buried in the front of his t-shirt. Opening her eyes a bit reveals that the sun is fully up now, crisp spring sunlight flooding in through the big window in the living room. Another beat, and Nate’s arms loosen a little, and one of his hands starts to make absent figures into her back. 

Kira sighs, closing her eyes again as a few more tears leak into his shirt.

“I’m sorry.”

The first words she’s spoken in a good long while and it comes out as barely more than a rasp. Her mind wanders to the fact that this isn’t the first time he’s seen her cry, and she wonders how he can even stand to be here now. She’s supposed to be a rock—sturdy and unyielding, but also something for others to lean on. This? This is…

This is just pathetic.

“Don’t be sorry.” His voice is quiet, a comforting rumble in his chest. “You shouldn’t apologize for having feelings—especially about… _that_.”

Kira readjusts her position a bit, settling her cheek more comfortably under his chin. Nate tilts his head and presses a kiss to the top of her hair. 

“It’s not your problem,” she sighs, staring blankly at the wall across the room. “I keep unloading on you. I shouldn’t do that.”

“I want to be there for you,” he replies, so simply and plainly that something in her stomach flips. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere but here right now. You’re always taking on everyone else’s problems—you deserve someone to help you with yours.”

She snorts, though it’s more just a puff of air out of her nose. “It’s been a long time since I let myself lean on anyone.”

“I’m honored.” She can hear the grin in his voice. “I want to be that person for you. I want… I want you to trust me.”

She laughs a little, burying her face in his chest to help ease the throbbing headache behind her eyes. “I do trust you. We wouldn’t be sitting here like this if I didn’t.”

He kisses the top of her head again instead of saying anything in response, and she wonders how she even got here. How could a vampire—a _literal vampire—_ who is also _a very large man_ make her feel so _safe?_ So protected? So…

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to keep you safe from him,” he says, interrupting her thoughts. “I should have been there. That’s the second time I’ve—”

“—Stop that.”

He tenses against her and she shifts so that she can smooth her hand over his chest. His heart races under her touch. 

“Stop blaming yourself for everything that happens to me. It’s not your fault.”

Nate doesn’t say anything, but she can feel the urge to argue clawing at his throat. She shakes her head, sighing. 

_Stubborn._

“It wasn’t rape,” she says flatly a beat later. He coughs a little, shocked at her bluntness, but she just tightens her grip on him, fixing her gaze on a spot on the wall. “He just kissed me. It just reminded me—when we were in college, he and I almost dated. One time we got drunk and he almost…”

She trails off, somehow managing not to relive that moment again. “I got away from him but my clothes were already half off and I was messed up because—because I’d _told him_ that I didn’t want to have sex with him _repeatedly_ and he still tried it. He still got me drunk enough that I couldn’t drive and tried to talk me into it. And when I kept telling him that I didn’t want to, he thought he could change my mind for me.”

Her words sit heavily between them for long minute. She’s tired now, and so any ability to be nervous for his reaction has faded away with the anxiety. 

“Thank you for telling me,” Nate settles on at last. “I’m so sorry.”

“Bobby has a problem taking no for an answer,” she says bluntly. “That’s why we’re not friends anymore.”

Nate nods. “That’s a good reason.”

They sit in companionable silence for a bit after that, and despite how uncomfortable the floor is, Kira’s exhaustion is starting to get the best of her—especially after that little _episode_ she just had. Sleep begins to tug at her, here on the hardwood floor, and she’s ready to slip into dreamland with no thought to the consequence sleeping there would have on her aging body.

She stirs only when Nate moves, shifting until he can scoop her up bridal style and rising to his feet like she weighs the same as the average house cat.

Kira laughs, a little delirious and a lot delighted, as he carries her off towards her bedroom, hiding her smile in the soft skin on his neck. His scruff scratches at her nose, and it makes her giggle again, this time making him laugh, too. Rather than dump her on her bed, he bends when he reaches it, depositing her with the utmost gentleness on the still-made mattress. She lets her hands drag against his neck as he pulls away, wishing she could just pull him down for a kiss even though she’s still scared he’ll say no.

And then he’s standing up, sighing and looking over at the window like he’s nervous.

Nate clears his throat and says, “I should get going, then. Let you get some sleep.”

Her heart sinks.

“...would you stay?” she asks, focusing on sloppily kicking her shoes off to avoid looking him in the eye. “If I asked you to, would you stay?”

“I—of course. Of course, I would. Are you asking?”

She snorts a little, pushing herself up and going to find some pajamas. She’s so tired that she doesn’t think much of it as she starts to strip her clothes off to change, though she smirks when she catches a glimpse of him in the mirror whirling on the spot until he’s facing the wall, spluttering like mad.

“Do you think Adam would mind? I know we’re probably supposed to start researching today, but… I need to rest and I just…” she trails off as she pulls her pajamas on _—_ just a t-shirt and some pants. “I don’t want to be alone right now.”

He risks a glance at her when he hears her climbing into the bed, sighing heavily as she sinks into her mattress. She watches him watch her, sees the gears turning even through the sleep pulling at her eyelids. She can also still see the giant wet blotch on the front of his shirt from where he’s standing in the sunlight streaming in from her window.

“...could you at least get the curtains, then? I’ll set an alarm but I’m going to get my full 7 hours whether Adam likes it or not.”

Nate snorts, but does as she asks, pulling the curtains closed—and she groans as darkness falls over her room, soothing the throbbing headache that had taken up residence in her sinuses. 

_Too much crying_ , she thinks, letting out a breath that hitches in the middle, almost like a reminder.

“Should I—Should I take off my coat?” he asks, and she frowns, blinking blearily at him. 

“Are you staying?”

“I… would like to, yes.”

Kira chuckles. “Then, yes. Get comfortable. Take off those layers and your shirt that I ruined—you can hang it up to dry if you want—and then you can come lay with me for a while. Until I fall asleep, at least. Then I don’t care what you do.”

He chuckles at that and she watches, half awake and half gone, as he sheds a few layers, draping them over her desk chair. Once he’s down to just his white undershirt and jeans, he unfastens his belt and slips off his shoes. She doesn’t have the wits to admire seeing him so stripped down, but she smiles regardless as he moves to lay on the other side of the bed.

...on top of the blankets.

Kira laughs at him, tossing her head back and slapping a hand to her forehead.

“Nate, oh my god, you poor sweet thing,” she chortles, snorting a little. “This isn’t a Jane Austen novel. Get under the blankets.”

He laughs a little at that, but doesn’t argue, and after a moment of adjusting, he’s in bed beside her, settling in under the blankets and sighing softly. She turns to face him, smiling at the sight of him in her bed. He’s such a pretty sight—all warm brown skin and even warmer brown eyes.

 _Handsome_.

There are many things she would like to do with him alone in her room like this, but unfortunately the only thing she will be doing for the foreseeable future will be _sleeping_. She turns back on her other side for comfort, wiggling until her back is fit up against his chest and he follows suit, curling around her until they’re both comfortable. His arm around her waist, one of his legs between hers, his face buried in her shoulder—she sighs as he kisses gently at the exposed skin there, nuzzling contentedly.

“Goodnight, Kira.”

“Night, Nate.”

* * *

When she wakes, it’s to an empty bed. 

She lies still for a moment, partially adjusting to the rested feeling in her body, and partially reasoning with herself why he didn’t stay. She knows that Adam must have called him in _—_ and she had told him she didn’t care what he did once she was asleep—but it still hurts, just a little bit, that she didn’t get to wake up in his arms. 

As she pushes herself up into a sitting position, she notices something sitting on her desk. 

The little stuffed rabbit she’d won Nate at the carnival is sat next to her desktop monitor, holding a little folded up piece of paper.

She smiles to herself as she pads over to it, footsteps muffled by the plush carpet beneath her feet. Kira picks up the rabbit and hugs him to her chest as she unfolds the note, burying her face in the fur and inhaling the lingering scent of Nate’s cologne. 

_Kira,_

_I’m so sorry to leave before you wake—Adam was insistent that I get back to the facility. I won’t tell him what happened, exactly, but I will make sure he lets you get as much sleep as you need. Call when you’re ready and you can come join us for the supernatural research you wanted to do._

_Yours,_

_Nate_

Kira smiles at the note, pressing a kiss to the rabbit’s little head. She’s glad that he wanted to stay, and she really appreciates that he got Adam to let her sleep. As she goes to get ready for the day, she makes sure to bring the rabbit with her.

He should go back to where he belongs, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello yes i am Obsessed with these two and spiraling down a hyperfixation rabbit hole


	2. ansare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **ansare** \- _to hardly breathe; to be out of breath_
> 
> After what happened with Bobby, Kira decides that maybe it would be a good idea to get a little self-defense training in alongside of the research they'll be doing.

“You sure you wanna do this?”

Kira sighs, stretching her arms above her head and bending backwards until her back cracks. Morgan and Farah both make an audible noise at the sound, to which Kira only smirks. It’s been a while since she’s done any kind of sparring, though she keeps up with her fitness in the gym across from her apartment building. Morgan leans against the wall in the training room, the picture of ease, as Farah stands next to her, watching Kira stretch. 

“I’m sure,” Kira says eventually. “I just—I want to brush up on my self-defense skills after what happened the other night.”

“You mean after those guys snuck into your apartment through the window?” Farah asks.

Kira laughs a little, shaking her head as she puts her hair into a tighter bun. It would probably make sense, given the fact that they don’t know what these supernaturals want and the fact that they’re the source of this strange plague, that Kira wants to be able to defend herself against that. Unfortunately, Kira’s nerves have been rattled by none other than a regular human man who showed up at her house uninvited and tried to seduce her into giving him information.

She’s not sure how that’s worse, but for some reason she’d rather get infected with a magic plague than sexually assaulted. 

Who would have thought?

“It’s less to do with that and more to do with the reporter who is borderline stalking me now,” she says, bouncing a little on her feet to continue the warmup. 

“Shouldn’t you be sparring another human, then?” Morgan asks, smirking as she pushes away from the wall and saunters Kira’s way.

“Well, I could, but I’d rather kill two birds with one stone and also get started on a little bit of combat knowledge as well.” Kira sighs, planting her feet solidly on the ground as she faces Morgan. “That okay with you?”

Morgan smirks, dragging her gaze up and down the length of her. “Oh, it’s perfect for me, sweetheart.”

Kira feels heat blossom in her cheeks at the frankly vulgar look in Morgan’s eyes, though thankfully they’re interrupted from whatever the hell is happening by Farah smacking Morgan on the shoulder.

“Stop flirting—Nate’s gonna get jealous.”

“What, I can’t admire the view? I’m not gonna do anything—he’s got nothing to worry about,” Morgan says, shrugging. “Aren’t you supposed to be reading those books you made me and Nate drag in here earlier?”

Farah groans, glancing over at the pile of tomes sitting on a table on the other side of the room. “Do I _have_ to?” 

“We’re doing a little of everything, Fair,” Kira laughs, nodding. “You already know how to fight and—no offense—but I think Morgan is probably better for teaching me self-defense.”

Farah snorts, nodding reluctantly. “Yeah, true.” Then she groans again and shuffles off towards her chair and table that had been set up in the corner. “ _Fine_.”

Morgan and Kira both chuckle as she shuffles away, dragging her feet as she goes. Morgan looks back over at Kira then and smirks.

“Ready?”

Kira shakes her head, shrugging as she slips into a defensive stance. “As I’ll ever be.”

Morgan lunges.

An hour later and Kira is doing—better than she’d expected, but worse than she would have liked. Vampires move so fast that Kira can’t really even see where she’s going which, while an odd sensation in itself, leaves her floundering and open for Morgan to knock her on her ass over and over again. At one point Morgan plants a particularly solid, if vastly held back, kick into center of her chest, sending her sprawling on the mat.

Farah laughs particularly loudly from her corner, where she has most definitely not been reading any of the books they’d brought with them. Kira shoots her a glare that doesn’t land as she pushes herself back up, tired but still ready to keep going. 

“You ready to give up, yet?” Morgan sneers, watching smugly as Kira stretches to loosen out her tense muscles.

Kira shakes her head, cracking her neck. “Nope.”

“You sure?”

“Yep.”

“‘Cuz I’d hate to send you back to Nate with too many bruises.”

Kira rolls her eyes, readying herself again. “I’m fine. Let’s _go_.”

Morgan shrugs. “Whatever you say.”

And then she disappears again, faster than Kira can make out. Kira curses under her breath as, before she can even try to move, Morgan’s arms are around her from behind, one hand drawn up to her throat as if she were holding a knife to it. Hot breath dances across her neck as Morgan laughs, leaning in until her nose brushes Kira’s temple.

“Too slow,” she murmurs against Kira’s ear.

The scent of cigarettes engulfs Kira’s senses for a split second and her ears start to ring as the memory of _that night_ bubbles up from the back of her mind. Instead of anxiety, this time, it turns to rage, and she shrugs Morgan off, crossing to the other side of the ring to signal another round. 

“Again.”

Morgan laughs, something hot in her eyes as she says appreciatively, “You’ve got stamina, I’ll give you that.”

“ _Again._ ”

Morgan shrugs, and starts to move—but this time, Kira’s ready.

Kira doesn’t try to follow her with her eyes this time, unfocusing them to let her other senses take over. The adrenaline pumping through her veins combines with the heady smell of cigarettes and sweat, and something primal rises in her chest. She’s not just upset about what happened with Bobby—she’s _pissed_.

Her body moves almost instinctively as she thrusts her arm out, catching Morgan in the collarbone. Using the momentum Morgan had built up, she shoves and Morgan’s back hits the wall.

Everything goes still as Morgan and Kira both process what just happened. Kira’s forearm is drawn across Morgan’s throat, pinning her, and they’re both breathing a bit heavy. Kira can see Morgan’s pupils blown wide in her grey irises—and then she smirks.

“Shit. That was hot.”

The moment breaks as Kira snorts, dropping her arms and stepping out of Morgan’s bubble. Morgan doesn’t move, staying leaned against the wall as she looks at Kira with a new appreciation in her gaze—one that makes something in her stomach flutter. She’s not interested in Morgan like that, but even she isn’t immune to looks like that from people she likes and trusts.

And, she won’t lie, Morgan _is_ hot as hell.

The sound of the door opening shut distracts her from whatever weird thoughts she’d been having, and she turns to find Nate striding in, smiling that sunshine smile that she loves so much. 

“Did I just see you get pinned, Morgan?” he asks, crossing his arms and laughing.

Morgan shrugs, smirking at him. “Your girlfriend is better in the ring than I thought she’d be.”

Nate chokes on the breath he’d been taking at the mention of the word _girlfriend_ , which makes Kira snort and Morgan laugh. He clears his throat uncomfortably, thumping on his chest with his fist as he says, “ _Ahem_ , right—uh, Rebecca wishes to speak to you two. She’s on a conference call upstairs in the study.”

Kira deflates a little. “Damn. I wanted to get a little more practice in before I went back to researching.”

Nate smiles at her. “I can take over for a bit if you’d like?”

Farah snorts as she makes her way over from the corner. “Bit eager there, aren’t you, Natey?”

Nate just frowns down at her. “Rebecca’s waiting.”

“Fine, fine, we’re going.” Kira watches as Morgan and Farah follow his orders, but not before Farah leans in close and whispers, “Hope you have a lot of fun together.” She winks, even as Kira just rolls her eyes, and leaves the room.

Kira sighs as they’re left alone again, drifting back over to the mats and doing a few more stretches to keep her muscles loose. Her heart is pumping in her chest, and she’s actually really enjoying being able to work out some of her stress like this. She might do this more frequently from now on—she’d forgotten how much fun it was to spar with people rather than just jog on the treadmill or lift weights.

 _And_ , she thinks as she discreetly watches Nate strip off his layers until he’s left in just his undershirt and jeans once again, _it comes with a view._

As she bounces a bit on the balls of her feet to get her heart rate back up, she notices that Nate looks especially unenthused about the idea of sparring with her. She stops, slouching a bit as she looks up at him.

“If you don’t want to spar, we don’t have to,” she says.

He shakes his head. “No, I don’t mind,” he says, letting his gaze run over her as he shoves his hands in his pockets. “It’s just—well, there are _other_ things I’d rather be doing with you than sparring.”

She snorts, rolling her eyes. “I’m sure.”

They grin at each other for a moment, before he sighs and pulls his hands out of his pockets again. “Shall we start?”

“Whenever you’re ready, Sweet Thing,” she says, dropping back into her fighting stance.

The nickname seems to throw him off step for a moment, cheeks darkening before he coughs and says, “Alright. So, you’re already aware, I assume, that fighting supernaturals isn’t like fighting humans.”

She nods. “I _did_ just spend an hour sparring with Morgan.”

He laughs, nodding. “You did. I also saw that you managed to get in a pretty good hit.”

“Probably just luck,” Kira says, flushing a little. She’s not all that sure how she managed that either. “Statistically, it was probably bound to happen.”

“You’re not giving yourself enough credit. Morgan’s really good at this.”

“Are you suggesting I should be able to get _more_ hits in on you?”

He laughs. “Maybe.” Taking a step closer, he continues, “Each supernatural will have its own strengths and weaknesses, but for now I think the best bet is for you to be able to defend yourself so you can find a chance to run and call for backup.”

Kira nods. That had been more or less what she’d decided on for herself when she asked if they could also do a little sparring. Though her motives were more about brushing up on her basics, it doesn’t hurt to be a little more prepared for a combat scenario now that she’s part of this super secret organization and there are plenty of supernaturals out there that want her for her blood.

“I’ll attack you, then you defend against it and get out of range. Sound good?”

She nods again. “Sounds good,” she says, rolling her neck until it pops.

“Don’t worry,” he adds, smiling sweetly, “I won’t use my full abilities on you.”

Kira snorts. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

And then, just like Morgan, he’s gone.

“UGH! God, stop moving so fast.”

“I can’t. Supernaturals who are trying to attack you aren’t going to slow down for you.”

Kira groans, rubbing at her face. Dropping her hands back to her sides, she drops her head back against Nate’s chest. “Yeah, I know.”

“Do you want to stop?” Nate asks, chuckling as he holds her against him.

She looks up at him, thinking to herself that this man really has no bad angles if he doesn’t look bad even like this. He’s still smiling like he’s having the time of his life, which confuses her because he looks at her like that _so often_ and _surely_ he can’t actually mean it? There must be a catch. Maybe she’s just interesting because of the whole ‘immune to pheromones’ thing. Why else would this beautiful, immortal being want anything to do with her?

“How am I supposed to beat someone like you?” she asks, a beat too late. Nate looks concerned, gently untangling himself so he can move in front of her and look her in the eye properly. “I can’t even see you coming.”

“It just takes practice,” he says, smiling a little, trying to be encouraging. “You managed to get a hit on Morgan earlier. You’re already learning.”

Kira rolls her eyes, cracking her knuckles just to have something to do with her hands. The amount of exercise she’s getting feels good, but she’s starting to get frustrated with the whole concept of learning to fight supernaturals at all. She’ll never be fast enough for this, and is it really even going to help her to be able to face Bobby (or any man) next time she’s faced with that kind of situation?

Her only hope is to try to replicate what happened earlier with Morgan. To try and focus her other senses and stop relying on sight so much.

“Again,” she sighs, readying herself on the mat.

Nate frowns. “You’re sure?”

“Yes. Go again.”

He makes a face, reluctance clear in his eyes, but then he sighs and nods. Once again, he disappears from sight. Once again, she’s left floundering—whatever had happened earlier with Morgan seems out of her reach for now.

Nate captures her once more, arms around her shoulders like he’d done earlier. Kira groans, slumping in his grasp, though she smiles when he laughs, resting his chin on top of her head. Reaching up to grasp at his bare forearms, she turns her focus to the soft skin there, running her fingers over the dark brown hair covering them, admiring the strength of the muscles just beneath.

Nate hums. “You’re doing very well, Kira.”

She snorts. “Flattery will get you everywhere,” she says flatly.

That makes him laugh, sending butterflies fluttering in her stomach. He loosens his grip on her, running his hands lightly down her arms, bare as well from the tank top she’s wearing. Their hands tangle together as he speaks.

“I’m not flattering you—I’m serious. You’re doing better than any of us could have expected you to do, especially in just a few hours of training.”

“Mm. I suppose.”

Nate curls around her, hands running over her bare skin as he tilts his head to look her in the eye. From this angle, all she can think about is that he’s very close, his lips look _very_ kissable, and that this really wouldn’t be the _worst_ position to kiss him in. 

Whatever he’d been about to say dies on his tongue as she reaches up and cups his cheek in her right hand, running her fingers ever so gently along his jawline. His breath hitches, full lips parting as she flicks her gaze back up to his eyes, and then back down to his lips. His hands slip away from her arms, down to the sensitive curve of her waist. One of his hands stretches across her lower belly—his fingers are so _long—_ as he follows her lead, eyes dropping to her lips.

“ _Nate_ ,” she breathes, hooking her fingers under his chin to urge him closer. She can feel his heart pounding an excited rhythm against her back as he leans down to meet her, eyes slipping closed when the tips of their noses brush against each other.

She can almost _feel_ how much he wants to close that gap, how almost every part of him is screaming for contact, for _release—_ but he’s letting her lead, and she knows he won’t do anything until she initiates the kiss herself. 

The loyalty to her continued consent makes her smile, even as he leans in, lips parting as they brush against hers, hot breath in her mouth, as he leans in and—

Kira grins.

In a move smoother than she knew she was capable of, she reaches up with the hand on his jaw to grasp at his shoulders, bending swiftly at the waist and sending him tumbling over her shoulders.

Nate lands on his back with a quiet, “ _Oof_ ,” on the mat in front of her.

She doesn’t hesitate for a moment, pouncing on him the second he hits the ground, only coming to a stop when she’s straddling his waist and pinning both of his wrists to the mat on either side of his head. They sit in suspended animation for a moment, her grinning down at him, him looking up at her, blinking like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Pinned ya,” Kira says, voice low and silky.

His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he swallows thickly. 

“...that you did,” he rasps, eyes flicking briefly to her lips before he looks back up at her, a crooked smile on his lips. “That was dirty.”

She leans closer, smirking, adrenaline and satisfaction making her bold. “Don’t you know? All’s fair in love and war.”

He doesn’t laugh, but he does smile, and the deep brown of his eyes has turned to molten chocolate in the fluorescent lights of the training room. Kira laughs, letting go of his wrists and sitting up straight on his stomach, resting her hands on his chest. Nate doesn’t move except to reach for her hands.

His heartbeat races beneath her fingertips. It’s fascinating to her that he’s so warm beneath her—warm and strong and _alive_ , even though he shouldn’t be. He’s a predator, designed to hunt, to _kill_ , but all she can think about is the way his chest moves under her hands as she drags them downwards, a strange sort of curiosity overtaking her. He’s barely breathing, and when her hands reach her own thighs, he lets his hands migrate to her legs.

There’s a gentle tremor in his fingers as he digs them into the meat of her thighs as if he’s trying to ground himself.

“ _Kira…_ ”

Her name has never sounded so lovely.

His eyes are on her hips where she’s straddling his waist, trailing upwards over the rest of her and lingering on her mouth. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and her eyes are immediately drawn to the movement. He doesn’t say anything else—not with his mouth—but she knows what he wants and, almost in a trance, she leans forward again, reaching up to drag the backs of her knuckles against his face.

His eyelids flutter and he turns his head towards her touch, nuzzling her hand. Her thumb traces over his cheekbone and then down, down—until she smooths her thumb over the curve of his lower lip. His eyes open at the touch and he looks up at her, heavy lidded, mouth parted…

A hot wire has started to coil low in her stomach and, for the first time in her life, she thinks maybe—maybe this is what sexual attraction feels like.

_Kiss me._

She can see the words in his eyes, the plea radiating off him in waves, and she thinks to herself that it would be cruel to keep teasing him like this as she leans in even closer, closing the gap between them—

Nate groans softly when her lips land on the corner of his mouth, and she laughs, hands cupping his jaw to keep him from closing the gap himself. 

“Nate?” she whispers, tilting her chin to press kisses along the underside of his jaw.

“ _Yes_?” 

He’s breathless, shifting anxiously beneath her, hands sliding up her thighs towards her hips.

“Can vampires get hickeys?”

It takes him a moment to process, but when he does, he laughs, snorting against her cheek. She can feel him grin as her kisses trail down the side of his neck, though he gives another quiet groan when she opens her mouth and drags her teeth lightly against the skin.

“I don’t think it will stay,” he responds, but he’s tilting his head back now, baring his throat. “I’m not sure, though.”

“Mm.” She kisses his throat again, feeling his pulse jump beneath her lips. “I think that calls for a bit of research.”

He laughs, hands sliding up and down her thighs, leaving heat in their wake. “By all means, experiment away.”

She grins, lips near his ear now. “Gladly.”

Kira presses a few more hot, open-mouthed kisses to the column of his neck, before she opens her mouth and—

“Heh... Didn’t realize I was interrupting something.”

The amount of sudden, all-consuming annoyance that floods her system like someone dumping a bucket of ice water over her head is phenomenal, truly. 

Nate squirms beneath her, spluttering with embarrassment as Morgan leans against the door, arms crossed as she smirks down at the two of them. Kira finds herself dumped rather unceremoniously from Nate’s lap as he struggles to get out from under her, and she can’t find it in her to get up just yet, glaring at their intruder.

“You could have _knocked_ ,” Nate grumbles, pushing himself to his feet.

“But then I would have missed whatever _that_ was,” she argues, smirk somehow widening even more.

Nate offers Kira his hands, and she lets him haul her back up, though her mood has been officially ruined. Morgan doesn’t back down from the eye contact as Kira glares.

“What do you want?” Nate asks after rolling his eyes.

“Adam’s asking for you. Said we should finish up and get back to researching.” Morgan runs her gaze over the two of them, taking in their flustered appearances. “Maybe you should take a cold shower first though.”

Nate growls under his breath, which does nothing to wipe the smirk off of Morgan’s face. He gives a quiet sigh, running a hand through his hair as he goes to collect his clothes that he’d discarded when they started their sparring match. When he finally does turn to Kira, he smiles as bright as ever, though she can still see a hint of the roaring flame still simmering behind his eyes.

“I’ll talk to you later,” he says, voice low and suggestive.

“I look forward to it,” Kira replies, ignoring the look on Morgan’s face. “We have unfinished _research_ to take care of.”

His face flushes, and he laughs as he backs through the doorway, looking every bit like a lovesick schoolboy as he looks back at her.

“I can’t wait.”

And, with a final heated look, he gives a quiet sigh and turns away completely, leaving Kira alone with one very smug Agent Morgan.

“You, uh, need a minute?”

Kira shakes her head. “I’m fine.”

Morgan just chuckles. “Farah will be disappointed she missed the show.”

Kira snorts as she shrugs her jacket back on, taking a long drink of water. As she swallows, she sighs again and asks, “Is she in the library?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Because,” Kira pauses, gathering up the rest of her things, “so long as no one tells Adam, I’ll fill you _both_ in on what happened. Maybe you two can give me some pointers about _flustering vampires_.”

Morgan’s eyes light up and she laughs, tossing her head back. “Hah! Didn’t look like you needed any help getting him going from where I was standing.”

Kira shrugs as they leave the training room behind. “Can’t hurt to get a little extra knowledge, right? That’s what research is for.”

They chat all the way back to the library, Morgan happier to be hanging out with Kira than she’s ever seen her. When Farah immediately asks what she missed, because she can apparently just _tell_ that something happened, they all have a fun time talking about Kira’s session with Nate. 

It’s nice, Kira thinks, curled up in one of the cushy armchairs. She can’t remember the last time she had friends like this—Tina and Verda were always work friends first, real friends second. She likes having people to gush to without having to hold anything back.

When Nate reappears some time later, the vampires waste no time in teasing him—just a little—about the day they’d had. Kira watches them bicker with a soft smile on her face, only smiling a little wider when Nate shoots her a pleading, mortified look from one of the other armchairs.

Maybe staying in Wayhaven and doing this _Agency_ thing wouldn’t be so bad after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the most i've written in a frenzy in so long jfdkls


	3. we should just kiss (like real people do)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _a kiss to the hollow of the throat_
> 
> Kira and Nate's first date—extended edition.

Kira has never truly liked carnivals.

It’s not that she doesn’t think it’s nice to see people having fun. The sound of children laughing and the colorful lights setting the world aglow well after the setting of the sun are wonderful—magical even. The air is filled with the smell of popcorn and fried foods of all kinds. Teenagers run from ride to ride, shrieking with delight, holding hands with friends or their dates. It’s all like a hazy, rose-colored dream that she’d thought only really existed in made-for-TV movies about love and what your adolescence is _supposed_ to feel like.

Then again, the only carnivals she’d ever been to were years ago now, and weren’t so much of a _carnival_ as they were a seedy county fair run by people she’d never seen before, seemingly having been set up overnight. The rides had looked rickety, the food questionable at best, and her strongest memories of those nights had been of being far too cold and exhausted by the time she made her way from one side of the fair to the other. She hadn’t had friends to hang out with really, but sometimes she went because she hoped maybe she’d be able to find someone to hang out with.

All she’d gotten back then had been a runny nose and a lingering smell of tobacco and burning rubber that clung to her even after she’d showered. She really shouldn’t have gone to watch the tractor pull, looking back on it, but it had been the only place with somewhere to sit while she waited for the Agent her mother had left in charge to come pick her up. She remembers quite vividly now how she’d ended up leaning against a wall, shivering, as she watched a pair of teenagers from school sneak off under the big bleachers, no doubt to find somewhere to be alone. Being surrounded by so many people having fun with each other had not done what she’d wanted it to back then—she’d hoped that the fun would be contagious, but all it had done was remind her how alone she really was.

The memory of the loneliness in her chest lingers even now, though she’s also lost in memories of the last time she’d been here on the fairgrounds. She can still feel Nate’s fingers where they’d threaded through hers as they walked through the sideshows and looked around at the lights—the fake date had been the most fun she’d had at a community event in ages. Every time a smell or a sight threatened to send her spiraling back to her high school nightmares, Nate had tugged her a little closer, or Adam’s voice had interrupted her thoughts over the radio in her ear, and she’d remembered where she was, who she was with, what she was doing.

But she’s alone right now, checking up on the new supernaturals running the carnival, and she finds herself wandering down memory lane a little more easily. Especially since the recent contact with her mother has been bringing up—a _lot_ of memories, both good and bad. 

They’d gone to one fair together, she remembers, watching a mother hand her young daughter a giant cotton candy. It’d been a short-lived thing, as her mom had been called away before the sun had even gone down completely, but during the little time they’d had, it had been… normal. Rebecca had taken her on all the rides she’d wanted to go on—Kira had even gotten her to go on the merry-go-round with her. She’d won her a stuffed bear at one of the sideshows as well, and Kira had kept it for…

...well, she still had it in her closet, actually.

But, one good memory didn’t make up for the plethora of times over the years Kira had been alone and had had to do things like this alone. She’d never been a popular kid in school—no one wants to hang out with the weird kid who doesn’t have parents and can’t have people over to her house because of that.

“ _There_ you are!” 

Farah’s voice shocks her out of her reverie, and any thoughts of the past are knocked clean out of her chest as the vampire barrels into her, half leaping onto her back and knocking the wind out of her. Kira groans softly, but manages not to fall over as Farah wraps her arms around her shoulders, laughing, with a half eaten thing of cotton candy in her hands.

“This is great, huh?” she asks, hanging off of Kira in a way that very much says she doesn’t plan on moving.

Kira snorts, reaching up to touch Farah’s arms. “You found the sugar, I see.”

“Yep! Want some?” Farah asks, offering her puff of cotton candy.

Kira sighs, but pinches off a piece and pops it into her mouth, enjoying the taste as the sugar melts on her tongue. They sway on the spot for a moment, just enjoying the lights and the sounds and each other’s company, before Farah snorts into Kira’s coat. 

“Care to let me in on the joke?” Kira asks, turning to look at Farah where she has her face buried in her shoulder.

“Nothing. I just remembered that Nate was looking for you.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Had something he wanted to ask you, I think.” As she says this, Farah shoots Kira a Look, smirking and waggling her eyebrows suggestively. 

Despite the way Kira’s stomach flips, she just raises an eyebrow, shaking her head. “Are you going to be like this forever?”

“ _Ohh_ , you bet I am. I’ve never seen Natey so flustered over anyone before—it’s _cute_.”

A scoff leaves Kira’s lips. _Yeah, right_. “You’re exaggerating.”

“Am not!” Farah objects, letting go only to get right in front of her, grabbing Kira’s wrist insistently. “I know I’ve only been here for, like, seven years but I’ve seen him have crushes before! This? This is _way more_ than any of that.”

Kira’s unsure about that, because she’s just—it doesn’t make any sense! She’s never been considered _desirable_ , really, so him being _that into her_ is just not realistic. Yes, he’s open with the fact that he likes her, but it’s probably definitely just a casual thing. She’s something new and they have a lot in common—that’s all.

She can feel herself making a face as Farah opens her mouth again, apparently determined to drill this through Kira’s head, but they’re interrupted.

“Kira, there you are!”

For some reason, her heart leaps into her throat at the familiar timber of his voice as she and Farah both turn to look at him. He’s a vision in the warm, twinkling light raining from the fairy lights strung up all around them, brown skin soaking up the light until he looks positively radiant. He towers over the people around them as he sidles up, hands shoved deep into his jean pockets.

Nate smiles, barely even glancing at Farah. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

Kira can _feel_ the look Farah gives her in response to that. “I _told you_ ,” she murmurs to Kira, before she steps back and adds, “I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it, then.”

Kira and Nate both give her matching exasperated looks, but she just smiles and then skips off towards the other side of the fairgrounds. Kira keeps watching the crowd even after Farah disappears into it, suddenly nervous and uncertain of herself. After a moment, Nate clears his throat.

“What do you think of the reopening?” he asks curiously. 

She looks back up at him finally, finding him glancing around at the lights himself. She wonders if it’s strange for him, being surrounded by all this after having grown up so long ago, or if living through the changing of history, the rise of industrialization, all of it—if living through it made it less strange. She tries to imagine what it would be like to live longer than her allotted time on this Earth, what it would be like to live through First Contact, through to the moment humanity finally takes to the stars. 

She imagines he’ll still be here when that happens. He’ll get to see it all.

What a wonderful, tiresome existence that must be.

It’s not until he looks back down at her with concern on his face that she remembers he’d asked her a question. Coughing, trying to ignore the heat blossoming in her cheeks, she clears her throat and says, “Uh, yeah, it’s great. It’s—it’s like something out of a dream. The kind of carnival you see in the movies.”

Nate smiles, nodding his head in agreement. “I agree. They’ve done a wonderful job rebuilding.”

They both look away again, and Kira feels like a teenager again, all fluttering nerves and racing heartbeats. Farah’s words flash through her mind again, followed closely by the way Nate had technically already asked her out, hadn’t he? Why did she still think it was all a joke? She—

“I actually came to find you because I wanted to take you up on that deal we made,” Nate says after another beat.

_Oh._

She tries to bite back the grin that tugs at her lips, but fails horribly, reaching up to rub at her jaw to cover the embarrassing smile stretching across her face. Nate’s face seems to light up as he steps closer, closing the distance between them until she can feel the heat of him in the still-chilly spring night air. He leans in closer, beaming, as he asks, “What do you think about making this a date?”

Kira laughs, finding herself suddenly feeling quite shy as she looks away, out at the lights around them. “I’ll be honest, part of me thought you were joking about that.”

“I would never,” he says, sounding a little offended at the thought. 

“I know,” she assures him, reaching out to touch his leather jacket, feeling him tense in anticipation under her touch. She brings her gaze back to his, fiddling with a loose thread on his coat. “That was just my insecurities trying to send me spiraling.” 

He looks concerned at that, but she takes a deep breath and looks away again, bouncing a little on the balls of her feet. “I’ve always wanted to be one of those people who got to go on a date to the carnival.”

Nate chuckles and she feels one of his hands brush gently at her hip. “I can’t think of a better place for us to go than here.” 

They grin at each other for a moment, and she notices that his cheeks have darkened with a happy flush. Another second passes, and then he opens his hand, offering it to her as he says, “So, Kira… how about we make this our first date?”

The implications of the phrase ‘ _first_ date’ send butterflies swarming in her stomach, and she can’t keep the smile off her face as she places her hand in his, the utter perfection of the moment sending her heart thumping in her chest. He tangles his fingers through hers and, even though his hands are much bigger, they fit together so comfortably that it feels almost too perfect. Before she can get lost in her musings, though, he smiles brightly and turns to look at the bright lights all around them. 

“Where should we go first?”

They spend a good little while wandering the fairgrounds, talking idly about whatever comes to their minds. They try another game or two—Nate wins her a rabbit to match the one she’d won him the last trip they’d had, and she laughs as he stuffs it into one of his jacket pockets for safe keeping. They ride the carousel, and though they joke about the Tunnel of Love, Kira ends up dragging him over to something called _The Sizzler—_ a ride she’d loved as a child that ends with them both laughing, smooshed against each other in a seat as the machine spins them around fast enough to induce vertigo. 

Nate’s hair looks wonderfully windblown when the ride comes to an end, and she murmurs an insincere apology as she reaches up to run her fingers through the soft brown waves, surprised at how little product he seems to use to keep them in such a perfectly coifed state. His eyes darken at how close this movement brings them, eyes dropping to her lips, but then the operator is there undoing the bar fastened across their laps, and they’re up and walking again.

It’s only right that they eventually find their way to the Ferris wheel.

It’s ricketier than she’d hoped it would be, once they finally get up to the front of the line. It sets her stomach flipping nervously as they settle into the tiny seat that barely even fits the two of them in it. 

She clutches uncomfortably at the lap bar when the ride jerks and stutters into motion, sending her and her date ascending backwards through the night air and up, farther than she’d expected. Kira doesn’t remember being scared of heights, but the solid warmth of Nate pressed against her helps ease her nerves slightly. 

It helps ease them even more when she nudges his arm until he lifts it, confusion on his face, and she grabs his arm and places it firmly around her shoulders. He chuckles and she can feel the vibration of it in his chest as she snuggles into his side, resting her head against his chest as a sense of safety washes over her. 

Nate’s heart races in his chest, and she laughs softly as she presses her hand gently over his sternum. 

“Your heart’s beating so fast,” she breathes.

He hums, stroking his thumb back and forth on her shoulder. “So is yours.”

She grins into his shirt. “This thing looks like it’s held together with duct tape.”

That makes him snort with laughter, though he’s careful not to jostle the car too much now that she’s voiced her concern. “Don’t worry,” he murmurs, tightening his arm around her, “I’d catch you if we fell.”

“Who’s going to catch _you_?”

He just laughs, shaking his head. The ride jolts to a stop when they reach the top, and when they glance down they find more people boarding the attraction—though Kira quickly returns her gaze to the treetops in front of them and the wide expanse of stars above, steadfastly ignoring the way her stomach had dropped when she saw the height. 

“I think my heart might be beating even faster than yours,” he says softly after a minute. 

Kira tilts her head, nuzzling her face into the hollow of his throat. “Why? Are you nervous?”

“ _Very_.” The word’s barely more than an exhale. “Don’t you know how long I’ve been waiting for this?”

Kira quirks an eyebrow, even though he can’t see it with her face buried in his shirt like this. “What—riding a rickety Ferris wheel with an insignificant mortal?”

He tenses against her, and she can picture the way his full, dark eyebrows have probably drawn low on his brow. “There are many words I associate with you, Kira— _insignificant_ would be the farthest from them.”

“It’s true, though,” she says, voice flat. She doesn’t want to ruin this moment, but she needs to make it clear that she’s aware that whatever this is, it can’t mean as much as it means to her. “I’m just some woman you met through work. Surely we all blur together after 300 years, no?”

“You are so much more than just _some woman_ , Kira. I don’t—there aren’t the words in any language either of us know to explain it, but I…” He pulls away, leaning back so he can look her in the face. “Kira, just knowing that you return my feelings is so, so much more than I could have ever hoped.”

She smiles sadly. “It’s okay if this is just a fling, Nate.”

“It’s _not_ ,” he insists. Frustration is clear on his face, but the adoration in his dark eyes sends her mind spinning as he reaches up to cup her cheek. “Kira, I don’t want this to just be one date. I want—I want a _relationship_. With _you_.”

_Oh._

“Nate…” she murmurs, and her eyes are on his lips before she can say anything else. She leans forward a little, and he laughs suddenly, shaking his head.

“I want to continue this conversation, but I also _desperately_ want to kiss you while we’re still up here,” he whispers. “May I?”

She doesn’t have to think twice about her answer.

“ _Please_.”

Nate smiles one last brilliant smile before he leans in and captures her lips with his.

The shock of contact has them both inhaling sharply at the first touch of lips against lips. Nate makes a soft sound into her mouth, and she hums in return, reaching up to touch his jaw. His hand on her shoulder slips lower, sliding down her spine, skimming, until his hand stops on the curve of her waist. Heat prickles across her skin, and she swears she sees fireworks - brilliant, multicolor pops of light behind her closed eyelids—as he reaches up and tangles his other hand into her hair, pushing her deeper into the kiss.

They break apart when the ride groans beneath them, and Kira gasps, clutching onto Nate’s shoulders for dear life as he laughs delightedly, pressing a kiss to her cheek. 

“It’s alright—I’ve got you.”

The ride is over now, and she sighs, laughing a little at herself as she relaxes into his arms on the way down. 

Getting off the ride is a little awkward—Kira thinks that the operator can just _tell_ that they had been kissing up there, but she tries not to think about it as Nate tangles his fingers through hers again as they walk. 

Their conversation on the Ferris wheel isn’t over, but she also doesn’t really want to have it standing in the middle of the crowd either. Nate seems to agree with this, because he’s looking around at the carnival around them, trying to figure out where they can go that is private enough to have a real heart to heart. Kira pictures the layout of Hollow’s Peak as she stares off into the crowd, and then she remembers—the stage area that she’d seen set up near the edge of the carnival.

“There’s a stage with a live band we could go watch,” she says, looking back up at him. “It’s on the edge of the fairgrounds. People used to go sit on picnic blankets and listen to music. We could—we could find a place over there, probably, that’s a little more quiet.”

He smiles, running a hand through his hair. “That sounds wonderful.”

And that’s where they finally end up, hovering near the tree line looking down on the makeshift amphitheatre. It’s colder over here, away from the lights and the crowds, and Kira finds herself shivering a bit in the breeze blowing in across the treetops. She doesn’t stay cold for long, though, because Nate comes up behind her, curling around her with a pleased sigh. She leans back against him, hands resting on his forearms drawn across her stomach. He bends in closer, resting his chin on her shoulder as they begin to sway gently.

The band starts to play an incredibly sappy, slow song after a minute, and Nate’s arms tighten around her. Both of them have been wanting to be this close for so long that it’s a huge relief, almost, to have him wrapped around her like this. That same sense of safety that radiates from him in waves washes over her all over again as her eyes drift closed.

“I’ve wanted to hold you like this for so long,” Nate confesses on a whisper. He presses a kiss to her shoulder when she turns her head toward him. “I can’t get you out of my mind. I think about you all the time and being this close to you…” he pauses, chuckling a bit, before he continues, “All I can feel is you. I haven’t felt anything like this in…”

“...decades?” she guesses when he trails off.

“Ever?”

“Oh…”

He laughs, pulling away just to spin her around to face him. He grabs her hand, holding it close to his chest, and begins to dance with her in the dark. She’d stepped up on a big exposed root when they came to a stop, so it’s less uncomfortable than it might normally be for him to slide his arm around her waist and pull her close. He rests his forehead against her temple as they sway, and the moment is so breathtakingly intimate that her eyes begin to sting.

“Sometimes I think I dreamt you,” she laughs, breathless. “How is this even real? No one has ever—I’m—you’re _incredible_.”

Kira can still feel his heartbeat as they dance, the song swelling around them as he cradles her hand to his chest. His lips brush against her cheek, and she lets out a rough breath.

“I don’t understand how you’re interested in me, and I’m still waiting for the punchline, but— _god_ , I want to be with you, too.”

Nate sighs, a delicate wash of warm breath across her cheek. “Let’s give this a try, then,” he says simply. The music drifts through the air around them and, here in the shadow of the trees, it feels very much like they are the only two people in the world. Nate tilts his chin, trailing soft little kisses along her cheek and down to her jawline. She tilts her head to meet him and their lips meet for the second time that night.

It’s a short kiss this time. Gentle, lingering, but it breaks a moment later as Kira nods against him. 

“I’d like that,” she says quietly. “Even though I’m still confused as to how _you_ , Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome, could be interested in me.”

He snorts and she can feel the curve of his smile as he leans down to nuzzle his face into the side of her neck. His teeth scrape ever so lightly at the corner of her jaw as he asks, voice low and hot and suggestive, “Shall I show you how _interested_ I really am?”

Goosebumps prickle across her flesh and she shivers as heat rises up her neck, blossoming across her cheeks and burning at her ears. She closes her eyes as he starts to mouth at her jawline, a shaky breath falling from her lips as she tilts her head for him. The soft, romantic song has faded away now, replaced with something with a faster beat, the thudding bass thrumming in her eardrums, vibrations she can feel in her chest—

“ _Kiss me_.”

She doesn’t even realize that she’d been planning to speak until the words are already tumbling from her lips, barely more than a breathy exhale. 

Nate chuckles into her skin, pulling away just enough that he can look down at her, dark eyes warm and eager. He smirks, the hand on her back clutching just a little tighter—and then he pulls away, grabbing both hands to lead her farther into the tree line with a lazy smile on his lips, all confidence and white teeth as he strolls backwards into the shadows. The languid, otherworldly grace with which he moves has her stomach turning somersaults in her gut as the darkness of the forest falls over them, the rest of the world falling away. 

Neither of them are watching where they’re going, so it surprises her when he changes direction, pushing her backwards. Her ankles hit something solid and, when she glances down, she finds a decently sized fallen log right up next to a big oak tree. She laughs quietly as she steps up onto the log, still holding Nate’s hands. It’s perfect, closing the foot of difference between them considerably, and now she’s able look him in the eye without straining. With her back against the tree, he steps even closer, dropping her hands in favor of grasping at her hips, and she reaches up to slide her hands up his chest at the same time.

She watches him watch her for a few deliciously tense heartbeats—watches his eyes drop to her lips, almost thoughtful, like he’s considering just where exactly he wants to put his mouth first. Her fingers dig into the front of his shirt, and his tongue darts out to wet his lips, the movement drawing her gaze. His lips stay parted, full and soft, a contrast to the scratch texture of his stubble. 

Kira’s still watching his lips when he finally closes the gap between them.

His kiss is gentle and chaste—slower than she’d been expecting. When he led her back here, she’d been expecting urgent fervor and a roaring flame, but instead it’s a low, delectable simmer. The kiss they’d shared on the Ferris wheel had been rushed, a little impatient, because they only had so much time before they were back in eyesight of the bustling crowd. Now, here in the dark, far enough away that they are safe from prying eyes, the kisses they trade are light and almost hesitant. Each kiss he presses alternates between her upper and lower lip, lingering and building in intensity as with each kiss he gets more and more sure of where he is and what he’s doing. 

Nate makes a quiet little noise when she flicks her tongue out to meet his, and the sound sends something electric skittering up her spine, making her fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt. She repeats the motion and he tilts his head, deepening their kisses until she is left clinging to him, his arms and his body pressing her against the tree trunk the only thing keeping her legs from giving out. Kira presses up on her tiptoes, struggling to get closer when he sucks her tongue into his mouth, only to gasp when he bends his knee and his thigh slides between hers to help brace her against the tree.

“ _Oh, god—_ ”

Kira breaks the kiss with a strangled gasp that almost turns into a moan, surprised both by the motion and the reaction she has to it, tilting her head back to suck in a few lungfuls of cool air. Nate doesn’t seem bothered by this, trailing his kisses from the corner of her mouth down her jawline and to the side of her neck. He hums against her as she clutches at him, one arm around his shoulders and the other grasping at his forearm for dear life. 

She can’t remember ever having been kissed quite like this, she thinks dazedly as he kisses at her pulse point, open-mouthed and hungry. Another shock of pleasure shoots down her spine when his teeth scrape lightly at her skin, and she wonders breathlessly if he’s going to give her a hickey when—

Nate pauses, pulling back just a little to look down at her skin. His hand leaves her hip to brush against her throat, delicately tracing a shape into the skin—and she suddenly realizes what he’s looking at. 

_Murphy’s bite mark._

When he doesn’t move for a solid 20 seconds except to trace his thumb over the spot a few more times, she becomes concerned.

“...Nate?”

She can feel him come back to himself even though she can’t see his face. He sighs and presses a chaste kiss to the scars, and then a few more, brushing over the hollow of her throat as he moves his kisses to the other side of her neck. Nate finally goes still when he buries his face in her shoulder, arms sliding around her with a contented sigh.

Kira reaches up after a moment, running her fingers through the soft hair at the nape of his neck and feeling him relax against her. He seems happy to stand like this forever—and maybe she would have been, too—but before either of them can say anything else, Adam’s voice comes in over their radios.

 _“If you’re all done goofing off,_ ” says Adam’s flat, disembodied voice, _“we should be heading back soon. Finish up and meet me by the entrance._ ”

Kira and Nate both groan into the dark, slouching disappointedly against the tree. Laughter follows close behind, though, as Nate disentangles himself a little to press a kiss to her forehead. 

“Shall I take you home from here?” he asks, pulling away to look down at her, and she’s surprised by how low and rough his voice has become.

She snorts. 

“You mean, should you have an agent drive us both to my apartment?” she teases, laughing when he makes an offended expression. “I’m kidding. Yes, I think that would be a great way to end our first date.”

His answering smile is bright and happy—happier than she’s ever seen anyone when they’re looking at her, if she’s being honest. It’s very easy to take his hand as he pulls away, tangling her fingers through his as she lets him lead her back to society. Though the other vampires are definitely giving them _Looks_ when they meet up by the entrance—Adam’s icy green glare drops very purposefully to their joined hands—she can’t bring herself to feel embarrassed at all. Not when she’s just had the best date of her life, vampire and human combined. 

That night she dreams of golden fairy lights and cotton candy lips and the smell of leather and her favorite cologne, with not a nightmare to be seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love them and i realized that if i wanted to write other kissing scenes i needed to write the first ones in my own words or i wasnt going to be able to write any others ;w;
> 
> the song i listened to while writing/imagining them dancing is Heavenly Day by Patty Griffin ;w;


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